


Drive

by genevievedarcygranger



Series: Hotch x Reader / Hotch x You [15]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Bisexual Aaron Hotchner, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Car Sex, Day 13, Day 13 Kinktober, Day 13 Kinktober 2020, Day 13 Kinktober 2020 Car Sex, Day 13 Kinktober Car Sex, Day Thirteen Kinktober, Day Thirteen Kinktober 2020, Day Thirteen Kinktober 2020 Car Sex, Day Thirteen Kinktober Car Sex, Day thirteen, Dirty Talk, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hand Jobs, Humor, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Kinktober 2020: Car Sex, Kinktober: Car Sex, M/M, Name-Calling, One Shot, POV Second Person, Pet Names, Prompt: Car Sex, Public Blow Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Reader-Insert, Romance, Semi-Public Sex, Sex in a Car, Short One Shot, Smut, Snowballing, Song Lyrics, Song: Drive (Halsey), bisexual reader, degregation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26998432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievedarcygranger/pseuds/genevievedarcygranger
Summary: You and Hotch are on a drive together for a case, but you just can’t keep your hands to yourself.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Aaron Hotchner/You
Series: Hotch x Reader / Hotch x You [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862236
Kudos: 73





	Drive

_"_ _My hands wrapped around your stick shift_

_Swerving on the 405, I can never keep my eyes off this."_

\- "Drive," _Halsey_

* * *

"Feet down."

With an overdramatic pout, you dropped your feet from where they were propped on the dashboard. You'd been enjoying wiggling your toes – still encased in your socks – in the sunshine, but of course, your boyfriend had to stop your fun. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the word. _Boyfriend._ Hotch was your boyfriend, but you never got to tell anybody when it became official, other than Jack. You both agreed to keep it under wraps. Strauss had enough of a vendetta against Hotch as it was.

You playfully tried to sneak your feet back up on the dashboard, but Hotch beat you to it. He knew you so well. "Don't even think about it."

"Come on, baby," you cajoled, "Lighten up."

"We're working, dear," Hotch said and you knew that he wasn't that serious if he called you 'dear.'

"Technically, you're just driving."

"And you should be working," Hotch shot back. "Let's go over the profile again."

"Hotch, I know this profile backwards," you groaned. "And you probably know this profile in Latin. If you just wanted to work, you could have brough someone else, like Reid. He jumped for this and you shot him down."

A conflicted look passed over Hotch's stern face, momentarily stalling his tongue. He chose his next words carefully. "I brought you because you're a good profiler, dear."

Even though Hotch's eyes remained resolutely on the road, you raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that the only reason?" You asked leadingly, "Not my winning personality or stellar company?"

"Well, it wasn't' for your stinky socks in the a/c vents."

"Hotch!" You lightly smacked his upper arm, and he didn't even flinch in his concentration other than to smile. "You act as if your feet don't stink, but I know they do."

"Then don't put my feet in your face next time!" Hotch defended himself, full on laughing now.

"That isn't what happened!" You claimed, trying to cling to your mock anger, but quickly giving way to giggles. "But seriously, let's just…take a break from work right now. I feel like all we talk about is work. Work and Jack."

"We do work together," Hotch pointed out, but you could tell he conceded to your point.

"We work too much," you started. "We are long overdue for a vacation." You looked out the window to your right. "We could pretend we're going on vacation now. Just the two of us." You rolled yours eyes. "Instead of going to a prison interviewing some death row inmate."

"Where would you want to go?" Hotch asked.

"Maybe a cabin in the mountains where there is nothing to do but conserve body heat," you grinned, sneaking a look at him from the corner of your eye. "Or some cute little lighthouse in Maine on the coast where the rain keeps up inside and all over each other."

"You've got a one-track mind," Hotch commented with no small amount of mirth.

"Only when it comes to you," you told him sincerely. "You bring out the best in me."

Hotch reached over and took your hand, kissing the back of it tenderly. Then he sweetly murmured into your skin, "I bring out the whore in you."

You could have melted into the leather seat. "I can be your whore right now, baby."

"Don't," Hotch warned, "I'm driving, dear."

"Don't let me distract you." You pulled your hand back and unbuckled your seat belt, suddenly eager. You switched to kneeling in the seat and the bent over the center console, burrowing your face into the side of his suit jacket. He smelled expensive and almost woodsy from his cologne.

His hand came down on your head, just resting there, not even his fingers tightening around you yet. The anticipation of that sent a rush through your veins. From your bent over angle, if you were feeling a little more adventurous than you already were at giving your boyfriend head on a very public interstate, you might have slipped your slacks off some Hotch could grab at your ass. If was dark outside, you wouldn't have hesitated.

Instead, you had to make do as is, though you weren't sure if you were going to be able to suck him off as deep as you usually go. A hand job might have to do for now. Thank God this was one of the federal vehicles, so law enforcement knew to leave you be after running the plates.

You hadn't done something like this since high school, but almost ironically, being with an older man like Hotch made you feel young, reckless, and invincible again. Just being with him was such a rush, and his presence made you feel protective rather than smothered. There were no regrets when it came to you two being together.

While your mind raced, your hands were busy untucking Hotch's shirts and dealing with so many buttons. He was hard under his slacks by the time you reached inside his boxers to pull him out. At the touch of his skin, hot like living velvet under your hands, all thoughts in your mind slowed to a halt as you were consumed by one desire to taste him. Thankfully, Hotch's cock was long and hung to the right, so you didn't have to crane your neck very far to wrap your lips around the head.

Your lips barely laid a kiss on him before Hotch's hand slipped down to cup the back of your neck, his fingers squeezing along the sides of your throat. It wasn't enough to hurt or even impede your air supply, but it was just enough of a bite to let you know that you had his attention. You'd have to do a lot more if you wanted to hear him groan.

For a moment you settled on just running your tongue through the slit, gathering up his precome at an almost leisurely pace. Your hands held the rest of his cock in a death grip as you took your time to tease. Swirling your tongue along the groan finally gifted you with a hiss of inhalation through Hotch's teeth. After you giggled, you then settled on giving him what he really wanted.

Just as you suspected, the center console impeded your depth so that only half of Hotch's cock could get stuffed in your mouth. You'd have to be really obvious to the other drivers on the interstate if you want to suck Hotch down anymore. You were almost tempted to do so if it wasn't for Hotch's big hand smoothing down your back. As he neared the base of your spine, he started adding more pressure, urging you to dip back down and out of view. Heeding his wordless instruction, you settled down to get comfortable and stimulated the rest of his cock with your hands.

The most sensitive part of his cock was the tip anyway, but you knew it drove Hotch wild how you could take him so far without even gagging. It led to some interesting breath-play and maybe even a touch of jealousy and possessive sex after you revealed to Hotch how you got so talented (practice with other partners, of course). But speed was of the essence here. The longer you kept your head down, the riskier the ride got, and while Hotch had a steady hand on the wheel, the hand on your neck was only getting heavier and heavier.

So, you pushed his cockhead against the soft pouch of your cheeks until it bulged obscenely. Looking up at Hotch, you caught him glancing down at you every so often, and when he caught sight of his cock hanging off your pouted, stretched lips he finally moaned, the sound too loud in the confined interior of the SUV.

"You're such a little whore, aren't you? My good whore, my cocksucker."

Warmth pulsed through your veins, and you started jerking his cock faster in encouragement, unable to do much more than moan with his cock in your mouth. Idly, you wondered what the other drivers thought of Hotch mumbling to himself like this. Could they see the cinch in the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes and read his arousal as plainly as you?

"Our exit is coming up," Hotch informed you, somehow making something so cavalier sound just as filthy as what he was saying earlier. Of course, the growly timbre of his voice certainly helped. "I want to come in your mouth before that happens. Get to work, whore."

Accepting his challenge, you renewed your efforts, dropping your eyes away from his face to the task literally at hand. Tonguing at his glans, you kept one hand bouncing on his cock in a vice grip while he other buried into his boxers to squeeze his sack. That little bit of pain was what tipped him over, always the shortcut you used when your jaw got tired. With a gasp of pleasure and a tiny jerk of the car, Hotch came down your throat. You readjusted so that you could catch the rest on your tongue. When he finished, you took the time to tuck him away before you sat back up in your seat and clicked your seat belt into place.

Meanwhile, Hotch managed to not miss the exit, but soon pulled off the side of the road. Once he put the SUV in park, he turned to you and pulled you by the chin for a kiss. When he opened his mouth to you, you slipped your tongue, still coated in his essence since you neglected to swallow it all, into his mouth. Hotch made a small moan in surprise, but greedily followed your tongue back into your mouth for more of his taste. It was one of his dirty little secrets that you absolutely reveled in partaking.

When you both pulled away to catch your breath, you were the first to break the tension. "And you call me a whore." You dabbed your thumb at the corner of his mouth where a speck of white stood out starkly.

Hotch's tongue flicked over the tip of your thumb. He ended up flinging your earlier words back at you again. "I guess you just bring out the best in me."

You laughed, turning your attention to the little mirror in the sun visor, checking for come at the corners of your own mouth. "Yes, you're my whore."

Hotch didn't disagree. "Back to work, dear?"

"Hm." The sun visor flipped back up into place with a small snap. "Back to work."


End file.
